


The Step Before the Leap

by shaenie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Complicated Relationships, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaenie/pseuds/shaenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For most of their lives, they’ve moved around one another, naked or clothed, without any kind of awareness of personal space, but things are different now. Since their father had died, things had been different, and not for the better at all.</p><p> Set mid-season 2, in a sort of nebulous time pocket.</p><p>Thanks you to clavally and to kisahawkin for the fabulous betas.</p><p>Written for my kink bingo square: Nipple play/tit torture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Step Before the Leap

Sam buys the kit not quite on a whim, but more on a hunch.

He buries it in the bottom of his bag without thinking too closely about why he bought it or when he intends to use it, but trusting in his hunch anyway. He lives by these kinds of hunches, and while this doesn’t seem to be a survival tool, he’s used to paying attention to them.

Almost a month later, Sam and Dean put down a poltergeist in Utah on a Thursday that’s much like any other Thursday, except Dean gets so thoroughly slimed in ectoplasm that Sam has to bite back Ghostbusters quotes all the way back to the hotel. It takes both of them to get Dean clean in the not-very-roomy hotel shower, and they’re both hard by the time they finish.

This isn’t uncommon lately.

For most of their lives, they’ve moved around one another, naked or clothed, without any kind of awareness of personal space, but things are different now. Since their father had died, things had been different, and not for the better at all.

Since their dad, everything has been different, and the erections are the least of their problems. They’re grating on each other, Sam doing everything he can to ignore Dean’s constant, low-grade anger, and Dean lashing out at Sam for ignoring him until Sam lashes back, all unwilling, just so he can feel like he has a few hours of peace while Dean broods.

They still hunt together like a well-oiled machine, and while their interpersonal relationship has never been entirely smooth, it’s certainly never been this rocky, either.

Dean nearly falls in his haste to get away from Sam’s hard-on, and they both work relentlessly to pretend that it’s like before, like they don’t even notice, but Sam is tired of it all. Something has to give.

He even thinks he knows what; Dean will be horrified, because Dean has strict ethical standards, and will see Sam’s solution as breaching those standards. In spite of that, Sam thinks Dean will cooperate. Dean will most likely do anything to keep Sam from leaving him on the road. It’s a shitty thing to bargain for, but Sam will likewise do anything to keep Dean from self-destructing.

In line with the conclusion he’s come to, he gets Dean utterly shit-faced. When Dean is relaxed and flushed and lounging on the bed in just his jeans, Sam strips off his shirt and moves to lie next to him. Dean just turns to look at him, grinning a little, and Sam leans in and kisses him. Dean is soft and warm for about three seconds, and then launches himself backward off the bed; his feet barely touch the floor, and he lands on his ass.

“What the hell, man?” Dean demands, wide-eyed and all hectic color, and Sam just leans over the side of the bed to offer Dean a hand up. Dean, appearing more confused than angry, takes Sam’s hand, and Sam hauls him up off the floor and pulls Dean down onto the bed on top of him, their bodies flush against each others. 

Dean, nowhere near as stupid as he sometimes pretends to be, says, “This isn’t going to solve anything, Sammy.” But he licks his lips and his eyes dip to the firm flesh of Sam’s pecs, and more tellingly, he doesn’t try to squirm away.

“I think it will,” Sam says, and he thinks Dean knows it, that Dean has been maybe thinking along the same lines, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, because rather than deny it, Dean just swallows visibly. “We have to be able to find a way to fit together, again, after...” Sam says, and touches Dean’s cheek lightly, waiting for Dean to pull back, away, but Dean doesn’t. “And don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming; it’s been coming since I was a teenager.”

Dean winces a little at that, and Sam tries not to feel exultant; he has suspected for a long time -- since Sam was fourteen or so, and Dean decided that he was too old for casual affection -- but he’s never been sure. “I never would’ve touched you,” Dean says hoarsely. It has the sound of something Dean has told himself many times.

“I know,” Sam says, and smooths his hand into Dean’s short, spiky hair. “That’s why I touched you.”

“We can’t,” Dean says roughly. “This is just... it’s all wrong.”

“What’s one more secret, really?” Sam asks. “We already do everything else together. And we both need to vent pressure, Dean. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that if you don’t want it to be.”

“That’s all this is?” Dean asks, sounding a little sharp around the edges. “Venting pressure?”

“I said it could just be that if you want,” Sam repeats. “That’s not all it is for me, but if it has to be that for you, I understand.”

Dean gulps in a breath, and in a move that surprises Sam into going still, he bends his neck and rests his forehead against Sam’s. “It’s never been about that since you were a teenager,” he mutters. “It’s never been about that.” A few seconds pass, and Sam is mostly convinced that Dean is done speaking, and then Dean adds, “You always belonged to me the most.”

Blood begins to pool in Sam’s groin, and he’s a little surprised that such a simple statement could have such a profound effect on him. “How do you mean?” Sam asks softly.

“I was always meant to take care of you. Since the very beginning.” Dean tips his head up and kisses Sam on the forehead. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want you, Sam. But I got to tell you, I still don’t see how this is gonna help us. And I don’t know what I’ll do if you change your mind later and start regretting it.”

“Tell me the truth,” Sam says as soothingly as he can manage. “You want me to do something to physically reassure you that I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean considers this for a moment, pulling back just enough to look Sam in the face. His eyes glitter green and the tops of his cheeks are flushed. “That might help,” he admits, finally. “What are you thinking? Matching tattoos?” Dean is smiling a little, but his voice sound serious.

“No,” Sam says, and rubs the pad of his thumb across Dean’s lower lip. Dean licks it, as though it’s automatic, and the side of his tongue sweeps across the tip of Sam’s thumb. Sam sucks in a hard, hot breath, and Dean shivers all over, his body a quivering weight pressing against Sam’s. “Something a little more intimate than that. Does it need to be first, or will you just trust me and fuck me first?”

Dean closes his eyes. “I won’t fuck you until I’m sure you know what you’re doing,’” he says, sounding strangled. “And I gotta ask you not to try to tempt me, Sam.”

Sam shifts a little and murmurs, “Okay,” Sam says, a little disappointed, but not that much. This is going a lot better than he had feared it might. “Okay, but the offer stands as soon as you’re feel ready.”

Dean kisses him briefly, chastely, on the lips. “I need the... the perspective. I’m sorry, Sam,” he says, and he really does sound sorry. “I want to be able to trust you, but I need to know that you’re really sure before... Anything else.”

“Then something else, tonight,” Sam says, and rolls them both gently until Dean is on his side; he has his hand hooked behind Sam’s neck and doesn’t seem to realize it. Sam lets Dean’s pull him in, and they kiss lightly, carefully, for what feels like several minutes, and it’s not that there is no heat there. Sam can feel Dean’s shuddering control. It’s just that there’s no intent behind it. It’s actually hot and sweet to know that Dean wants to kiss him merely to kiss him, no forward agenda. It takes him a little while to extricate himself from it. He rolls off the opposite side of the bed and grabs his bag, digging around in it until he finds the kit. “I saw this, and I thought it might help,” he says, and turns back to Dean. “I knew you’d need something real, I guess.”

“Way to make me sound like a girl, Sammy,” Dean says dryly, but he’s leaning forward to look at the box Sam is holding, eyes curious. 

“Call it a promise, then,” Sam says. “Or just reassurance.” He returns to the bed and sits cross legged next to Dean. He pops the kit open and shows Dean the contents. “How do you feel about pain and sex?”

“We’re _not_ having sex,” Dean says, but he’s staring at the box, eyes a little wide. He transfers his gaze to Sam. “You done this before, Sammy?”

Sam flushes. “A little piercing play while I was in college. Nothing permanent.” Something about the way Dean looks makes Sam ask, “You?”

“About the same,” Dean says, looking into the box again. He tips some of the contents around with his finger, and then looks at Sam again. “You know these are gonna hurt for weeks, right?”

“I don’t care,” Sam says truthfully. “I care about you believing me when I tell you what I want. This is a small price to pay. And besides...” Sam feels himself flushing, but Dean is nodding.

“Hot,” Dean says easily. Then adds, “And permanent,” in a much starker tone. He flips things around in the box with a fingertip again. “You got a preference? I see you got a lot of options here.”

“I like the barbells for me and the rings for you,” Sam admits, and Dean’s head jerks up a little, startled eyes on Sam. “Shouldn’t we both make the same promise?” Sam asks a little defensively, but Dean relaxes all at once, and his eyes go a little sultry. Sam swallows past a lump in his throat.

“If you want it, I want it,” Dean says earnestly, one of the rare occasions that Sam can tell just by his tone that Dean really is sincere.

“I want the same reassurance,” Sam says shakily. “I don’t want you to regret it, or change your mind.”

Dean actually smiles a little. “Sam, I ain’t changed my mind in almost a decade. I’m not going to start now. I just want you to take some time and think, and I think...” Dean looks at the kit again. “I think if we can both live with these for the time it takes ‘em to heal, I’ll try to let that be enough.”

“This is going so much better than I thought,” Sam says.

Dean grins. “I never thought of how it could work at all, so clearly you got a lot to be proud of here, Sammy.”

Irrationally, that fact does make Sam feel pretty proud. “You want to go first, or should I?” Sam asks. He’s hard as a rock in his jeans, but he’s supremely unworried about it. He’ll stay hard as a rock for the next few months if that’s how long it takes to give Dean the confidence he needs.

“Let me do you,” Dean says, and sounds a little greedy now. Sam glances down and sees that Dean is also solid in his jeans, which only makes Sam more solid.

They change places on the bed, Sam on his back in the middle, Dean straddling his hips. He has the kit pinned into place with a pillow, and is taking out a pair of white latex gloves.

“No,” Sam says. “You bleed all over me all the time. If you’ve got something, I’ve already got it. I don’t want a surgical procedure here, Dean.”

Dean give him a long look, but sets the gloves aside on the bedside table. He sets out a bottle of hand sanitizer and an alcohol packet and a pair of forceps. Then he sifts through the kit and pulls out three set of barbells, holding them in their baggies up to consider next to Sam’s nipples. “You got a preference?” Dean asks.

“The whole point is for you to pick your preference,” Sam replies breathlessly, and Dean looks up at him to smirk.

Dean tips two of the baggies back into the box and shows Sam a large gauge set of barbells with black beads on either end. He opens them up and leaves them in the sterile bag, and then digs around in the bag again to choose a needle and a little plastic sleeve to thread the barbell to the needle with. His hand hovers over the pair of forceps for a second, and then he lowers it to Sam’s chest instead.

When Dean brushes his thumb across Sam’s left nipple, Sam nearly vibrates up off the bed. 

“Settle,” Dean murmurs. “Just... some prep. Or I can just use the forceps.”

“Prep is fine,” Sam says hoarsely, trying to keep back a groan as Dean leans forward over his chest and pinches Sam’s nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger. Sam shivers, and Dean drags his thumbnail across Sam’s nipple, sending jagged little pulses of desire to Sam’s groin. Sam breathes out harshly, an almost-moan, and Dean looks up at him briefly. He squeezes again, pulling this time, until Sam’s nipples is a tight, tingling point of agonized awareness on his chest. Then Sam really is shocked, as Dean bends and laps at his nipple with the flat of his tongue, and then catches it between his teeth, tugging lately. Sam’s hips want to jerk in time to the yank of Dean’s teeth, but he merely forces himself into trembling stillness and tries not to make any truly damning sounds.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says finally, pulling back, his lips red; Sam’s nipple is red and wet as well, and Sam has to look away from it. Dean uses a corner of the sheet to dry Sam’s insanely sensitive nipple, and then uses hand sanitizer on himself before swabbing Sam’s aching nipple with the alcohol pad. He threads the barbell onto the needle with the plastic sleeve, holding it carefully with his right hand, and picks up the forceps.

Dean catches Sam’s nipple with a quick motion that looks fairly practiced to Sam, catching up the nub of flesh and keeping it even in the triangular crook of the forceps. Sam watches as Dean brings the needle toward his vulnerable flesh, and wonders if it’s possible that he might come while Dean slides the jewelry into place. Sam has always enjoyed play piercing, but to be honest, this feels nothing like play piercing. This feels like making a pact with the devil in the best possible way.

“Deep breath, Sammy, and keep still,” Dean murmurs, and Sam takes the breath as ordered and watches, mesmerized, as Dean slips the needle through the flesh of Sam’s nipplie smoothly, tugging slightly to get the threaded plastic through the hole, and then letting the forceps release to maneuver the jewelry into place. Dean’s hands are precise and competent, and Sam feels like he could easily shoot into his jeans. There is blood, but not a lot of it, and Dean absently wipes a smear away with his thumb even as he’s threading one of the black beads onto the barbell. Sam can’t see all that well from his angle, but it looks perfectly centered, and Dean flicks it with a thumbnail; Sam gasps out a moan, more excitement than pain, and Dean looks at him with dark eyes. “Where else you like piercing, huh?” Dean asks in a deep voice.

“I don’t know yet,” Sam says breathily. “We’ll have to figure it out.”

Dean smiles wickedly. “You ready for the other one?”

Sam nods, and Dean merely cleans everything he’s used up, and then set it aside, turning his attention to Sam’s nipple. He only pinches and tugs for a moment this time, before he’s bending to take it in his mouth, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue, and then sucking hard; Sam’s hips jerk -- there’s no way to hold them back this time -- and then Dean is biting and pulling with his teeth, and Sam wants to shove his hands into Dean’s hair and hold him there pretty much forever. Sam’s nipple is far more tender when Dean releases it this time, and Sam feels so dazed that he hardly pays much attention to the prep.

One moment he’s enjoying the dull-sharp throb of his abused nipple, and a moment later the nipple is caught in forceps and the hot-white slide of the needle pushes into his flesh, so sharp and bright, making him moan aloud, his hands twitching at his sides with the desire to do something to Dean, make him slow down or make him speed up, Sam isn’t sure. 

“God,” Sam slurs a little, and Dean eases the forceps away and draws the plastic through the hole to set the piercing into place. Sam starts to shiver and sweat as Dean threads the bead of the barbell into place, and he’s so close to coming that all it would take is Dean laying a hand across the enormous ridge in his jeans. “Dean,” Sam begs.

Dean glances at him, eyes slipping back to the barbells for a few seconds, and then shift further down to Sam’s groin. He licks his lips, looking torn, but he drags his gaze back to Sam’s face. “Try to understand,” he says.

“I understand,” Sam says. “My dick doesn’t understand.”

Dean’s lips quirk.

“Just get off of me for a second,” Sam says. “I’m never going to be able to do yours with this thing.”

Dean slides to one side, and then just stares when Sam jerks open his button fly one-handed, feeling every motion in the tender skin of his newly pierced nipples. He groans when he wraps his own hand around his erection, pulling at his right nipple, and pushes his left hand down to wrap around his balls for no reason other than to pull at the left nipple as well. Dean’s face is full of avarice, eyes wide, lips a little parted, and all Sam has to do is look at his face, feel the pain lancing through his chest, and jerk his cock three times before he comes messily across his own belly.

All the tension seems to drain out of him. His nipples ache in an utterly fantastic way, and Dean is looking at him like he would like to swallow Sam whole. In spite of that, Dean manages to rummage in one of the bags until he finds a box of wet wipes, and helps Sam clean up his belly and hands, leaving Sam to take care of his cock himself. Still, Dean is red-lipped and sloe eyed as he watches Sam tuck himself back into his jeans.

“You’re just beautiful,” Dean says, slow, as though drugged. Sam’s lust response is lightning quick, however, arcing up his backbone and dragging at the base of his skull. Sam doesn’t respond because he isn’t sure he can keep himself from begging Dean to prove it. He just shifts out of the way and takes Dean by the shoulders, guiding him down onto his back. Dean cooperates completely, his muscles feeling lax as Sam maneuvers him.

Sam sorts through the kit for what he needs, setting it out all in order, holding the prepped needle in one hand. He wants to tug and bite at Dean’s nipple, wants to give Dean all of what Dean had given him, but Dean raises a hand as Sam starts to bend, bracing it against Sam’s shoulder.

“Just the needle,” Dean says. Sam opens his mouth to object. “No, Sammy. I’m not tryin’ to short change you here. It’s just that... just the needle is what always did it for me. So that the whole thing feels...”

“Abrupt,” Sam finishes, because now that Dean has said it, Sam can see easily why Dean would like it that way. “Okay, Dean. Whatever you want.”

Dean shivers, and Sam maneuvers the forceps into place. He has to use both hands to stretch Dean’s nipple enough, and Dean is breathing fast and hard, his eyes closed. Since it seems clear that the surprise is part of it for Dean, Sam doesn’t warn him. He slides the needle in quickly, hears Dean choke out a sound that is definitely not pain, and then tugs it through slowly, feeling Dean’s hips rocking in tiny, unintentional swells. The ring slides right in, no coaxing, and Sam slips the bead into place and tightens it down.

When he looks up, Dean is staring down at his own nipple, entranced; his hips are still rocking slightly; Sam does his best to ignore it, but he’s already getting hard in his jeans again. Dean looks up at him, face dazed, and Sam leans in helplessly, holding his hands far out of the way, and kisses him on the mouth. Dean opens up for him immediately, his tongue hot and slick, and there is a lot more intent in this kiss, a lot more open hunger, but Sam doesn’t mistake it for an invitation. He’s not interested in forcing Dean past his stated boundaries. He can wait for everything else. He hopes, though, that kisses are not one of the things he has to wait for.

He pulls back and Dean pants open-mouthed, eyes closed again, while Sam preps the needle and the piercing. Dean’s right nipple is such a hard, hot little peak that it doesn’t take both hands this time to gather it up into the crook of the forceps, and Sam hears Dean growl when Sam slides the needle in, a sound that arches up into a groan as Sam slowly draws the needle and piercing through. Dean’s hips are rocking enough now that his cock is actually bumping needfully against Sam’s ass, and Sam can barely think with that kind of distraction. He gets the bead on the ring and wipes blood off of Dean’s chest, but doesn’t even have time to put the needle down before Dean reaches down between them, his hands tugging frantically on his fly.

Sam scoots down to straddle his thighs and watches, fascinated, and Dean drags his thick red cock out of his jean, his fist twisting viciously around it as Dean wheezes out a breath. Then Dean is staring at Sam’s chest, one hand gently holding one of Dean’s new nipple rings, and jerking his cock furiously. As with Sam, it only takes a few strokes, and Sam, woozy as he is with lust, manages to return the favor with the wet wipes.

They don’t clean up as much as they just throw everything into the box and set it on the bedside table. Then it is just the two of them, curled on their sides and facing each other, both of their eyes meandering from each other’s faces to each other’s piercings. Dean slips a hand along Sam’s waist and pulls them in until their knees touch, and Sam feels faintly triumphant at the gesture.

“How sure are you that this is gonna work?” Dean asks after a long, unspooling silence.

“More sure now than I was before,” Sam says. “Why?”

“It’s not that you’re smart that catches me off guard, y’know,” Dean says. “I see that all the time. It’s that you got this special kind of intuition that always messes with me. A way of lookin’ at things that I never see. Me, I coulda never seen this.”

“I know you,” Sam replies softly. “I know what matters to you. I know things have to be real. This is just something real to get you through until you can believe the rest of it is real.”

“Yeah, but I never woulda come up with it,” Dean says. “I don’t want to not be enough for you, Sammy.”

“You would have thought of something else,” Sam says. He’s even reasonably sure that it’s true. “Maybe not the same things, but something that would hold us together when things seem like they’re spinning apart.”

“Not sure I deserve that kinda faith,” Dean says.

“Then you’ll have to trust in my judgement, at least until you are sure,” Sam says.

Dean says nothing, thoughtful for a long moment. “What do you give us? Three weeks?”

Sam grins. “Two, tops. That’s one of your biggest gifts. The ability to throw your belief behind something big and make it real.”

“Flatterer,” Dean says, but he’s smiling. “Come on and lets get these washed up so they heal as fast as possible.”

“Tell me the truth, you’re a weights kind of guy, aren’t you?” Sam says, grinning.

“And I bet if I was to string a chain from your nipples to your balls, you wouldn’t be grinning like that,” Dean says smartly, but he just catches Sam’s hand and tows him into the bathroom.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Step Before The Leap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196445) by [dodificus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dodificus/pseuds/dodificus)




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